Her heart ached. “I’ll try,” she said. “I’ll try to let it.”

“Your first task is to find a buyer for this old place.”

“What? You want to sell?”

“It’s time, Natalie. You’ve known it all along, and you’re absolutely right. I’ve also reserved a spot”—he held up a brochure—“at this assisted-living residence.” He’d stayed up late, studying the booklet Natalie had given him in October, a glossy compendium of silver-haired people playing golf, sitting on porch swings, watching the sunset over the Sonoma hills.

“You want to live there?”

Of course he didn’t. But it was the most sensible choice for them both. “You can return to Archangel. I’m sure your firm would love to have you back.”

Her cheeks lost their color. She started to speak, but he held up a hand. “I’ve made my decision. We’re selling the building, and also the shop and all its inventory. We need to act quickly before it’s foreclosed and we lose all control.”

She brushed at her eyes. “I’m not going to do a thing until we make sure this is what you want.”

“It is, I assure you. I’ve been a foolish old man. I can blame the mercury, but it’s likely my own stubborn nature. I tried to hold on to this place because it guards my entire life within its walls.”

“Grandy—”

“Let me finish. This place is an empty shell without May Lin and Blythe. Without my long-gone parents. They will be just as absent from my life whether I stay and wait for the inevitable, or whether we move far away.” He covered her hands with his. “I want to be near you in a place where we don’t worry that something else will fall apart each day. Can we make that happen? Please?”

“Are you absolutely certain?” she asked. Her worried eyes probed like Dr. Yang’s scope. “Absolutely one hundred percent?”

The uncertainty ached in his bones. But this was Natalie, his heart, and he could not be a burden any longer. “I know what’s happening to me. And I know how it ends,” he said. “I don’t intend to leave you with a mess on your hands.”

“You’re not a mess,” she said. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you here.”

He held up a hand. “My mind is made up. No more twelve-hour days. No more threatening notices. I want to enjoy the time I have left without those constant worries.”

“But—”

“Enough, now. It’s time to move forward, Natalie.”

She took a deep breath, and for the first time in a long time, the worry eased from her face. “There’s a woman who left me her card—Vicki Visconsi. I looked into her firm, and it turns out she’s a broker for high-end real estate. Mom was talking to her, before …”